


Do You Not Think So Far, Ahead?

by melissmallfic



Series: Cracked, But Not Broken [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3347957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissmallfic/pseuds/melissmallfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian is hospitalized and realizes that he and Mickey might not be right for each other right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Not Think So Far, Ahead?

**Author's Note:**

> Retelling my AU of season 5 and beyond, from Ian's perspective this time. Annnnnnngst.
> 
> I would die for feedback, criticism, etc. :) Thanks to everyone who was so kind on Cracked, But Not Broken.

At first Ian was only putting food in his mouth because people told him to, and then stood over him to make sure he actually chewed and swallowed. And he knew intellectually that his body needed fuel to keep functioning. But he didn’t taste anything, couldn’t. Almost all of his senses felt shut down, or at least partially disabled. When they came back, though, fuck, that food was fucking terrible.

He ate the shitty food, he slept in the uncomfortable bed, he walked laps around the truly pathetic cement hellhole they called a courtyard. He went to therapy, he went to group therapy, he took his medication. Then he took a different medication. And then, finally, maybe, the right one.

There were some memories that were clear as photographs, and others that felt like dreams. He had a hazy recollection of yelling at his family and Mickey, cursing and spitting at them like a wild animal. He was grateful that one was blurry around the edges, he could pretend it hadn’t happened. He also remembered Svetlana coming to see him, alone, furious. That one was too far away to grasp and, again, he felt lucky.

But one of the sharp, clear as fucking day ones, he’d trade it for those other two in a heartbeat. He’d live with the sadness and fear on his siblings’ faces, the righteous outrage from Svetlana, if he could just not see Mickey’s heart breaking every time he closed his eyes.

***

Dr. Kadorian had been nudging Ian towards this conclusion for about two weeks. Ian could be a little bit of an airhead sometimes, even he knew that, but he wasn’t stupid. Every time he and his therapist talked about Mickey, she made the same subtle, quiet statements, and asked carefully worded questions all meant to arrive at the same answer. 

"Can you just say what you fucking mean, for once?" Ian snarled. The whole session he’d felt like a jack-in-the-box being wound up. He was done with subtle. This conversation was a long time coming and he was ready to get it over with.

Instead of being disturbed or even frightened of Ian’s outburst, Dr. Kadorian just smiled. “What do you mean, Ian?”

Ian pulled in a breath and exhaled, feeling his patience evaporate. “You’re trying to tell me to break up with Mickey.”

"I would never tell you to do that, Ian."

"Stop saying my fucking name," he said, pulling at his hair. "It’s so fucking annoying. You’re so fucking annoying."

As usual, where Ian had zero patience, Dr. Kadorian seemed to have an endless supply. She smiled again, and tilted her head, waiting for Ian to figure out what he wanted to say.

Having the freedom to speak his mind felt good sometimes, but he wasn’t used to being so present with himself. He realized how easily he got angry, and how intense his anger really was. Dr. Kadorian was urging him to recognize it and work through it more quickly, but it wasn’t easy. 

"It makes me  _angry_ , when you talk about me breaking up with him.”

"I haven’t—"

"You’ve  _implied_ it,” he ground out. 

"Fair enough. I’ve spoken about your future outside of the hospital, and the importance of you feeling like you’re the one in the driver seat of your own life. Is that what you mean?"

Ian nodded and rolled his eyes. “Yes. And how maybe I should look at the people in my life and who is contributing positively and whose life I am contributing positively to. You said that yesterday. Again.”

"And you assumed I meant Mickey?"

"Who fucking else is there?" Ian shouted. He stood up and just that action made him realize that he was breathing hard, and sweating. Why, why was that happening? How did he get there? He concentrated on taking deep, slow breaths, and sat back down. "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay. You have a lot of feelings about this. It’s okay to have feelings."

"I know that," he muttered. "I don’t like thinking about it."

"About what?"

"About me and Mickey  _contributing positively_ to each other’s lives.”

"Why not?"

Even though Ian knew that would be the next question, it still made him mad. But he saw it coming and he let himself be mad for a moment, and then let it go.

"I don’t know."

Dr. Kadorian shook her head. She didn’t let him get away with saying those words anymore. “You do, Ian. You just don’t want to. There’s a difference.”

Ian bounced one leg up and down and looked around the room, both trying to think about it and not. He knew she was right, he knew why he didn’t want to think about it. But every time the thought came into his brain, he shoved it out fast. It made his heart race, his skin feel hot. 

"I don’t like thinking that we’re not good for each other."

He got a nod for that one, like he’d done a good job. He wanted to roll his eyes again, but didn’t. 

"I think," he started, feeling his chest start to tighten. "I think I’m not good for him."

"Why are you not good for him?"

"I fucked up his life. I stole his kid, his wife fucking hates me. I scared the shit out of him. I’m fucking crazy."

"Ian."

"I  _know_. Fuck. I just, I still feel that way, sometimes. That I’m crazy.”

"That’s normal." She looked at him kindly. "What else?"

Ian felt his lower lip tremble. “I think he’s not good for me either.” He put his face in his hands. “Fuck,” he gasped through his fingers. 

"Why?"

Ian sat quietly for a minute. The words were swirling around in his brain, and they all stung. “He’s too afraid to lose me, I think. He pushed me and look what happened. I’m afraid he’ll never do it again. And what if I do this again? I probably will, right? What if I do something worse, and he’s too scared?”

Ian started to cry then. He heard Dr. Kadorian get up and sit beside him. She held out a box of tissues and he pulled a few out and held them over his face. He thought about Mickey’s face every time he came to visit. How even when he yelled, when they fought, that he never pushed as far as he could. There were always things left unsaid. Like Mickey knew just how many straws were on the camel’s back.

He wiped the mass of tissues over his face and sat back. “I don’t think I can do it. I can’t do it.”

"Can’t do what?"

"I can’t hurt him. I can’t break up with him."

"Is that what you want?"

Ian closed his eyes. He could see it in his mind’s eye. He could see himself saying the words and he could see Mickey being devastated. He’d seen it already. Mickey didn’t know it, but sometimes his emotions were all over his face. Ian didn’t know if he could handle seeing that kind of damage.

"No, but I think I have to."

Dr. Kadorian put a hand on his shoulder. “Then we have to figure out a way.”

***

Ian thought he could probably draw the inside of the third floor mens’ bathroom from memory and not miss a stray fucking pube or torn off sheet of toilet paper. He’d been in and out of there all morning, sick to his stomach about Mickey’s visit. Against his better judgment, he’d eaten the disgusting oatmeal for breakfast. That hadn’t been fun the second time around. Now he just felt like his intestines were trying to turn themselves inside out. 

But the way he was feeling was nothing compared to the way he’d feel after, and that made it so much worse. He was almost grateful for the pain because he felt like he deserved it for what he was about to do.

Even though he and Dr. Kadorian had been over and over what the plan was, even though he’d had her do the dirty work of calling Mickey, and preparing him for their talk, he was still terrified. He wanted one more day, he wasn’t ready.

The bathroom door opened and Ian cringed inside the stall, happy whoever was there couldn’t see him.

"Ian?" an orderly called out. Ian wanted to stay silent, pretend the man had the wrong bathroom. "Ian, it’s time to come out. Dr. Kadorian is waiting."

"Coming," he croaked, pulling up his pants and flushing. His lower back ached and his toes were a bit numb from sitting for so long. 

When he stepped up to the sink to wash up he nearly gasped. He looked pale and miserable, his hair sticking up in a million directions. He wet his hands and ran them through his hair, trying to tame it. The orderly gave him about thirty seconds of that before he opened the main door up.

"Let’s go."

The walk from the bathroom to Dr. Kadorian’s office felt like walking to the electric chair. Dr. Kadorian was waiting outside her office, the door closed behind her. She looked up when she saw Ian and gave him an encouraging smile.

"You ready, Ian?"

Ian shook his head. “No. I don’t want to.”

"Ian, you can do this. Mickey and I just had a good talk. I think this can go well. Just stick to what we talked about. And remember why you’re doing it."

Ian nodded. He felt acid rise sharply in the back of his throat when she put her hand on the doorknob. All he could think was how badly he did not want to go in there and do this, but this was it. He was out of time.

Mickey was sitting in one of the chairs across from Dr. Kadorian’s desk, Yevgeny in his lap. Ian felt instantly soothed by the sight of the baby. He was a distraction. And he was a reminder of why Ian needed to do this. He and Dr. Kadorian had talked it through. This wasn’t forever, it was for now. And if he worked hard, gave himself the time and space to heal, he could have all this again. Maybe. 

Mickey must have seen him looking at Yevgeny because he handed him over. Ian felt the warm weight of Yev in his arms, his chubby feet pressing into his thighs. Yev was like a human sedative. But he wasn’t quite strong enough that Ian was able to look at Mickey directly. Ian could feel the anxiety coming off of Mickey in waves. One of the things he promised himself is that he wouldn’t let Mickey see how badly this was hurting him. He didn’t want Mickey to feel like he needed to be comforting Ian.

Dr. Kadorian encouraged him to start talking. He thought for a second that when he opened his mouth, all the wrong words would come out, or maybe he’d just scream.

Instead he said, “Mick, I need a break.” He sounded calm. He could do this.

Mickey didn’t react. Fuck, Ian thought. He didn’t want to have to repeat it.

"A break," Mickey said.

Ian bit his lip. “Yeah,” he said, putting Yevgeny on the floor. “I think maybe you shouldn’t come here for a while.”

"Ian," Dr. Kadorian said. Ian looked over at his doctor. They’d spoken about how important it was to be clear about his feelings. Not to be vague about what he was asking for. 

"Sorry. I mean, I don’t want you to come here anymore. I need you to wait until I get in touch with you."

And there it was. Ian saw all the color, what little there was, drain out of Mickey’s face. Anyone not trained in Mickey’s facial expressions would say he looked tired, maybe a little upset. But Ian knew what he’d done. Mickey looked crushed, defeated. 

They didn’t say anything for a bit. Ian forced himself not to say anymore. He knew if he spoke he’d just take it back. If he moved it would be to wrap his arms around Mickey. All he could do was watch Mickey look increasingly shattered and sick as he realized what Ian had said.

"Mickey?" Dr. Kadorian broke the silence. Both he and Mickey looked over at her. "Do you have anything you want to say?"

Ian could see Mickey’s brain processing about a thousand things he wanted to say. Ian could hardly breathe, he hated this feeling so much. He hated seeing how fucking  _sad_ Mickey looked. 

"Whatever you need," Mickey said, finally. Ian wanted to scream. He knew it was what Mickey would do, that Mickey would only want what was best for Ian. But he wanted so badly for Mickey to fight, to tell him he was wrong. 

"Just a sec," Mickey said a few seconds later, pushing out of his seat and practically sprinting out the door. He looked like he was about to be sick and Ian had to hold so tightly to the chair to not follow him that his knuckles ached.

"I can’t believe I just fucking did that," he breathed. A few tears leaked out and he brushed them away quickly. "Fuck, fuck." He took short, shallow breaths.

"Ian, that was good."

"No, when he gets back here, I’m telling him I was wrong." Ian sobbed and covered his mouth with his hand. "I can’t do this."

"You already did, Ian. You did it." Dr. Kadorian looked at him in the eye. "Ian, you’re strong enough to do this. And you know why you’re doing it."

From the floor, Yevgeny started babbling and swatting his toy at Ian’s shin. Ian looked down at the baby, those ice blue eyes that he’d never be able to forget. He wished with everything inside him that he could just be with them, with Mickey and Yev. That he felt whole, that he felt like he knew he was, that he could be careful with them. But he couldn’t. And neither of them deserved it.

Picking Yev up from off the floor, he looked up at Dr. Kadorian and nodded.  She smiled. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

He made himself smile back, if only to see if it helped. The door opened behind him.

"Are you okay, Mickey?" Dr. Kadorian asked. Mickey sat back down and Ian looked at him in small doses, repeating over and over again in his mind that he was doing the right thing.

"Fine," Mickey said. He sounded anything but, his voice hoarse. Ian thought he was going to say something else, but he didn’t.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Dr. Kadorian cleared her throat. “Well, Mickey, if you don’t have anything you want to say to Ian, it’s just about time for him to get to lunch.” She looked down at her watch. Ian wanted to yell at her for that, for making Mickey feel like he was a nuisance. Like Ian’s lunch was more fucking important than he was.

All Mickey did was say, “Okay,” and stand, holding his arms out for Yevgeny. As soon as he was out of Ian’s arms, Yevgeny started to cry. It made Ian want to cry, too. He just wanted Mickey to be okay, for life to maybe not be so difficult for five fucking minutes.

Dr. Kadorian opened the door to her office and Ian stepped out first. Mickey followed, bouncing Yevgeny a bit to get him to stop crying. Out in the hall, Yev reached for Ian again. Ian put a hand out to let Yevgeny wrap a tiny hand around one finger. He looked at Mickey.

As sad and sick as he looked, Mickey was still beautiful. If Ian could have made a deal with the devil, he’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant he could just look at Mickey forever. His fingers itched from wanting to run them through Mickey’s hair. He felt the strength of Mickey’s gravitational pull, desperate to close the space between them and kiss him until neither of them could breathe.

But he didn’t do either of those things. All he did was ask, “You’re really okay, Mick?” Mickey nodded. 

Ian smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging way. He put his mouth to Yevgeny’s hand, the closest he could get to Mickey without abandoning this whole thing. Ian nodded, feeling stupid and anxious. He let go of Yev. 

Dr. Kadorian put a hand on his shoulder and Ian turned to walk toward the dining room. He needed to get away because every second he stood there he was that much closer to just grabbing Mickey and running out the door. When he was halfway down the hall, he turned back and gave a little wave.

Yevgeny whimpered and Ian saw Mickey cringe. Ian turned around before Mickey could see him start to cry. He walked right past the dining room and towards the stairs. He threw open the door to the stairwell and started running up. He ran up four flights before he tripped, hitting his shin and spinning into a seated position.

His chest was heaving, tears were streaming down his face, and now his shin was throbbing. He let out the sob he’d been holding in and an avalanche of them followed. He closed his eyes and saw Mickey’s face, the pain in his eyes as raw as Ian had ever seen. Ian hated that that was the last time he’d see Mickey for a while, that that expression was what he’d have to carry around.

He couldn’t be sure how long he cried. His stomach started to hurt and his throat burned. He had no tissues, so was wiping the snot and tears off his face with the hem of his shirt. When they finally slowed, he sat back on the stairs, looking at the small, barred window high up on the wall. He could only see the dingy gray of the sky.

He’d done it. He’d ended things with Mickey. It was surreal. They’d been together, or at least off and on, for so long now. He wasn’t sure anymore who he was without Mickey. All this time, no matter what new horrors his mind threw at him, no matter what crazy fucking shit he got into, he knew that he was Mickey’s boyfriend. Always that. Now what was he?

He didn’t know. He thought even Dr. Kadorian would allow him that for now. He didn’t know, but he wanted to know. 

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lovely offer for a beta that I of course misplaced. So, unbetaed it is. :)
> 
> Hit me up at melissmallfic on tumblr!


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